Involuntary
by Christy Leigh Stewart
Summary: The night is cut short due to Wade's insecurity.
1. Chapter 1

It was involuntary.

Both Peter's action and Wade's reaction.

The sensation of Wade pressing down against him, lapping at his mouth, and stroking him beneath the condensed space in his pants silenced Peter's normally racing mind. His hand instinctually moved to pull Wade's mask completely off in an attempt to gain closer contact but without skipping a beat, or a stroke, Wade used his free hand to wrench Peter's hand away; so suddenly and painfully that Peter couldn't hold in a startled gasp.

"Sorry." Wade dropped his grip like he had been burned but he didn't slow down. He yanked Peter's shirt up to his chin and began kissing his chest as methodically as he had done his mouth.

"Wait," Even to Peter's ears it sounded than a little more than a moan and in the time it took him to say it Wade had him forgetting why he had wanted to wait for anything.

Somewhere along the way Peter's pants had been removed and Wade's mouth relocated again, but this time to his testicles, hands kneeding Peter's backside in anticipation of what's to come.

And it felt amazing.

And then it became amazingly torturous as Peter's cock throbbed for want of attention but the only contact it got is when it drug across the top of Wade's bobbing Head. No – – not his head, his fucking mask. The clarification put Peter on edge and he reached down to stroke himself to alleviate at least one source of frustration but movement is misinterpreted and Wade pulled back out of reach.

"I wasn't going to –" Peter began to explain before the ridiculousness of it sets in. "Get out."

"What did I do?" Wade asked even as he pulled the fabric down over his mouth to do so without insecurity.

"You're just fucking with me."

"I'm trying to."

Not about to be having this argument spread eagle, Peter sat himself up but consciously decided not to cover himself; no matter how awkward it would be to try to have a serious conversation while he was still naked and hard it seemed hypocritical to do otherwise. "I know it's hard for you," Peter allowed Wade to make the joke he walked into before continuing, "I know you're self-conscious but how am I supposed to feel when you flip me over before taking your dick out and then after fucking me into the wall you just climb back out my window. Seriously, what would you feel like my situation? No jokes."

Although Peter can't see Wade's facial expression he is intuitive enough to know that he's serious when he says: "It's a lot better than the disgust you would feel seeing the monster you let into your bed."

"And it's not quite as bad as realizing how little you think of me. You really do need to go now."

"Peter, please,"

"If I have to make you leave you won't be allowed to come back. Make the right decision for once."

It didn't take Wade long together his artillery and climb back out the window but it wasn't fast enough to avoid hearing Peter cry


	2. Chapter 2

Something was different. Whether because of his heightened senses or anal-retentive nature, Peter could feel it the moment he entered his apartment. Someone had been in there and smart money was on that it was Wade.

Normally Peter could map out Wade's exact path by the trail of blood or snack wrappers he left in his wake but none was to be found. In fact, nothing was out of place at all. It was so odd and out of character for Wade that Peter began to question his instincts until the next morning when he tried to pour himself a bowl of cereal and a well-worn copy of Die Hard fell out; indecent doodles on the cover indicating it was Wade's personal copy.

The next day Fight Club was in the bathroom sink.

The next was Bridges of Madison County in a sneaker.

The burned copy of the Star Wars Christmas special under his pillow was the only thing Peter actually sat down to watch and it was so horrible and ridiculous it made him miss Wade so much hurt.

There was no way that Wade was sneaking in while Peter was at home; he was too heavy-handed, too heavy footed, too heavy everything to sneak past a normal person, let alone Spiderman, so the only alternative was that he was watching to see when Peter left the house. So, when Peter had finally broken he simply leaned out of a window and yelled, "Fine!"

Wade was padding behind him before he even made it to the living room.

"I'm still mad at you," Peter warned him.

"I have more movies,"

"No more movies!" Peters exasperation was intensified when he sat on the couch to find another DVD he had missed stabbing him in the back. "Beaches? Seriously? No more fucking movies!"

Wade sat on the far end of the couch as meekly as he could manage and quietly waited for his reprimand, so Peter gave it to him. "I'm not as shallow or as stupid as you apparently think I am. I've seen your face before."

"But not this close and not for long." Wade fell silent and Peter waited for whatever else he would say to butcher their budding relationship. When he finally did speak again he hunched down with himself, looking like a beaten animal. "I believe you when you say it doesn't matter. I know you could look at me butt ass naked on my worst day and you wouldn't bat an eye, but that's the point. As long as I can keep that from happening I can convince myself you would hate me as much as everybody else does and I don't have to feel guilty about…fucking you into the wall – – Your words, not mine!" Wade added emphatically.

Peter moved down the couch as if to sit with him but instead he took two fistfuls Obutof the front of Wade's suit and shook him. Hard.

"That's not any better!" Peter all but yelled. "I'm not a blowup doll and I'm not a self-centered diva and I'm sure as shit not a saint either. If you could just realize that I'm a normal person who is with you because of his own volition and can be cool but also seriously fuck up if you ever given a chance things might work between us."

"I would like to see you fuck up with something every once in a while," Wade admitted cheekily, lolling his head to the side as if dizzy.

Peter moved his hands from where they clutched the front of Wade's suit up towards his neck where his mask was set firmly in place. "We could test me now?"

Wade braced himself as if preparing to be shot and Peter took it as a go-ahead. He gently pulled his mask up just above the tip of his nose as he would normally do himself and feathered kisses over the bumps and groves he was already accustomed with. The skin in itself was velvety soft as scar tissue would be, but the muscles beneath were clenched so hard they ticked against Peter's lips.

"Please don't make me do this." If there were tears in his voice Peter would have been less heart broken but Wade said it as if it was a last request for decency, as if a few kisses had broken him where no beating had before.

"Okay," Peter said before kissing him one more time on the lips. "I'll make you a deal, I'll let you touch me anywhere I'm allowed to touch you; beneath clothes."

Wade's mouth fell into a taunt frown. "Anywhere as an everywhere?" He punctuated his meaning by nestling a finger down the back of Peter's pants, but above his boxers.

"Yes."

"You promise?"

"Yes." Peter mentally urged Wade to test him.

Wade's frown quickly became a wicked grin, "We'll have to see if your first fuck up is a broken promise." He yanked his mask back down but pulled his suit up a few inches where it split at the waist, "Hurry up, touch me.


End file.
